Someone Like You
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: Yesterday was the time of our lives. JackEmily. / Or, Emily Peterson trying to find a silver lining.


**someone like you**  
><strong>author:<strong> Erika (Her Name Is Erika)  
><strong>fandom: <strong>Young and the Restless  
><strong>central character(s):<strong> Jack Abbott, Emily Peterson, with a mention of Patty Williams.  
><strong>rating:<strong> teen  
><strong>pairing:<strong> Jack Abbott & Emily Peterson  
><strong>summary:<strong> Yesterday was the time of our lives. JackEmily.  
><strong>disclaimer:<strong> "Someone Like You" belongs to the talent that is Adele. And no, Y&R isn't mine either. I'm just an undergraduate in the post-secondary machine.  
><strong>notes:<strong> just something i felt like throwing out there in the fanfiction-verse, and really, besides Phyllis – Emily is the only other woman i tolerate with Jack. Genevieve isn't doing it for me. I like Genevieve by herself because she's just that complex, but not with Jack.

* * *

><p>Maybe, Tucker's right – <em>physician heal thyself, indeed<em>.

.

This is crazy. This isn't the right way to make peace with what happens a year ago, not the way to attempt some form of closure with the man she comes close to marrying, and the woman she damages regardless of intent.

But glancing at the fresh blanket of snow that falls outside of her office window in Chicago, Emily picks up the phone and dials before she loses whatever nerve she musters up.

"Uh, yes," she clears her throat, trying to sound like the respected psychologist, "this is Dr. Emily Peterson. I'd like to purchase a plane ticket."

"Of course. What is your destination?"

Emily's heart races underneath the cool exterior. "Genoa City, Wisconsin." A pause. "Yes, yes – thank you very much." She hangs up, and takes a deep breath because she's aware of her slightly trembling hands.

.

(Emily leaves for Genoa City the day after tomorrow and it's the longest 36 hours wait of her life.)

.

Emily Peterson has already rationalized this in her head – the pros and cons of going back to the place where she feels loved and not so alone since her parent's death at eighteen, and when Jamie choose prescription drugs and the false euphoria of being high and so drunk, he's incoherent and calls her, _Emmy_.

She shouldn't be so hard on Jamie in a weird, ironic kind of way – in his defense, Emily retreats into a world of college, graduate fellows, a dissertation and a couple fellowships that take her to Minneapolis, away from Cincinnati.

The cab turns on Glenwood Drive to the house that Emily is actually quite apprehensive to go to. Dr. Peterson feels that this is the right thing – that closure with Jack and finishing unfinished business in this town is healthy, and helps her battle her own issues even when she helps others.

In her psychiatrist's mind, Emily rationalizes that this is healthy, needed and maybe, even necessary.

But as Emily, the human being, the person – she can't help but be haunted by the ghosts of this place. She's a ball of well-kept emotions: sadness, over what could be with Jack and how broken Patty is (all she does is add gasoline to an already growing flame by _falling in love_), anger over Jack not knowing that's she's not Patty for four months and feeling like she's screaming in a soundproof room until her throat is raw and there's no breath left.

Emily has twinges of fear that she may see a woman with _her face_ with blue eyes that hold a child-like in them. Sometimes, when there's a midnight snow squall over Chicago and the wind twists, dances and whistles against her windowpane, it brings back memories of ice-skating with Jack and Christmas tree decorating while he kisses her underneath a self-planted mistletoe.

Then when the wind whistles, and weaves its way through the bare branches of the trees, Emily rolls over in her sleep with memories of Jack and Christmas in August and ice skating. It's something about the way he respects her, loves her, and she's surprised and slightly shaken at how happy she is to see Jack when he strolls in and a kiss on her lips that leave her knees weak and heart thumping against her ribcage.

Jack loves her, and she breathes out a yes as the engagement ring glints on her finger despite the specter of Patty Williams rattling at her Moral Compass and Conscience.

.

Oh, she knows better – as a person and a psychiatrist so on the odd day, here's what the word can't see underneath Emily Peterson's professional exterior: she can't help but be racked with guilt on the quiet non-session mornings.

.

Emily remembers when she meets Patty.

Patty smiles at her, and says, "You're so pretty, Dr. P," she giggles, a little. "And you're so nice."

Emily watches with her psychiatrist's eye: the way Patty averts her gaze, twiddles and plays with her fingers as she tries to keep them situated in her lap, and has moments of smiles, and sadness.

But as a person, Emily tries to see the good in everybody.

"Patty, I believe that everyone has a little bit of good."

She averts her gaze, downward, and fiddles with her fingers, before looking up again, "No," she shakes her hand, vehemently. Patty's eyes aren't so childlike anymore. "I'm not good. Not me."

.

Emily blinks, coming out of her reverie as the cab stops.

She gazes at the Abbott Mansion, the place she almost calls home and clears throat, going into her wallet to pay the driver.

"Thank you very much," Emily says, politely and as routinely as possible before exiting the taxi cab and taking careful steps to the doorstep.

Suddenly, it's just her, the Abbott doorstep and every memory she has of Jack.

.

Well, Emily thinks in order to rationalize it, Jack will probably do one of two things: a) question her identity because really, Jack's the only one that really understands the Patty Ordeal or b) not let her in at all because he doesn't have to and really, there's that small, nagging voice telling her that coming here is foolish anyway.

.

(One out of two is something Emily can live with – it's not that earth-shatteringly devastating. Actually, it's quite understandable.)

.

"Hello, Jack," she greets. "It's me, Emily."

Jack blinks, eyes holding surprise with a little apprehension in them. "How do I know it's you?"

So, she tells him about Christmas in August and the white skate tree ornament Emily presses into his palm with tearful eyes and a whole lot of regret between the both of them over what happens and what could be.

.

Emily sighs, sits down across from Jack while staring into her red wine.

"You know," Jack says, snapping the silence and shatters it. He holds a glass of dark red wine for himself before sitting down, "I imagined we would be doing this: sharing wine and just talking," he admits. "We would be doing this for the rest of our lives if we had just made it to the altar."

Jack is just a wonderful man and any woman would be lucky to have him. After all, Emily knows the feeling; the feeling of being lucky but nearly dying at its expense with Patty masquerading as her. It's a little more painful that Jack – who knows her more than anyone else does in a while – wouldn't know the difference either.

Emily takes a sip of her wine. It's a good wine.

"I just think things would be so different if not for Patty."

A part of Emily worries for Patty that she's out there somewhere, finding it difficult to cope, as she tells Paul earlier. Then there's the other part of her that is flooded with relief because Emily doesn't cry as much and wakes up finding little things that make her see the silver linings – things that make her laugh and smile.

Every day, it's a battle, but it gets easier.

"So, has Patty been heard from?" she asks, because there will always be a twinge of concern there.

"Aside from Paul getting a call from her in South America, no. Who knows where she is at this point?"

Emily doesn't say anything.

Because really, no one knows.

.

She puts her wine, offers Jack a smile.

"All we have to do is move forward."

.

"I think of you, Em," Jack says, quietly, locking eyes with her and raising a hand to her cheek. She still reacts viscerally, warmth rushing to her cheek and heart racing as if the last year never happens.

"I still think of you too," she admits, truthfully because Jack Abbott is never fully free from her streams of consciousness.

And really, it never will be.

She places her hand on top of it, gently prying it off of her cheek and holding his hand in hers a little before letting go.

.

Maybe it's her cat allegories acting up, and partly because the smallest part of her holds onto the way things ended and it brings back a glimmer of sadness, but she has to go.

Emily has to go back to Chicago, back to her life and maybe, just maybe, she'll continue to come across silver linings in clouds that come her way.

.

(Be happy, Jack. Love. Laugh. Live life, because that is all I've ever wanted for you.)

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is my first piece I've published in months because of life, school, and things that have gotten in the way. For someone that was on the show for a little bit, I think I did a good job getting into Emily Peterson's head, no?**

**But I hope you all appreciate it. **

**I have yet another Billy & Victoria oneshot from Billy's POV, but it's all up in the air for me. **

**But reviews would make a great belated birthday present. Feedback is my spinach. **

**-Erika**


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